Fatal Boarding (11 page)

Grey leaned forward. "Exactly what are the
problems you will face with a manual thrust back away, Mr
Davis?"

Davis replaced the pointer to its holder and
took his seat at the far end of the table. "There are several,
Captain. We need to disconnect the fiber lines from the auto
controller, but make them still think they have control of the
thrusters. Then, we can force the ship to move, without fighting
the auto controller's desire to maintain station keeping. Our back
away will at best be erratic, although Ray has indicated that Range
Safety will have no problem with that. There's nothing out here to
bump into except that ship. For a brief period, we will be drifting
free with minimal separation between ourselves and the other ship.
Of course, there will be a tendency for the two to attract each
other. Not only will we face a collision hazard, but we also have
measured a significant static potential between hulls. We could
possibly have arcing between ships, if we got close enough. No
matter how we look at this, it's a gamble, and it may not
work."

"But I trust you will be ready to make an
attempt by 07:00, Mr. Davis?"

"Yes sir, that is the one thing we are
certain of."

"What about the ALs, Paul. Do you have any
other reservations you would like to add?"

"Actually we don't, Captain. Our status is
exactly as reported at the general meeting. We are optimistic about
a hard start."

"Alright, we are depending on you gentleman.
Who here is reporting on the Scout craft option?"

"That's me, Captain." Terry Lee, the chief
structural engineer, raised his hand from the right hand side of
the table. "We have a prototype attachment designed for the scout
ships, and we've run enough simulations to know what the best
possible scenario would be. Two scout craft, one aft, one
starboard, at the 240 degree and the 80 degree on the Y-plane. That
gives us enough clearance from the other ship to avoid blow-back
from the scout engines. It would need to be a very slow move. Once
inertia takes over the scouts would just be following along. The
thrusters must be off-line to do it. And, we would need them later
to stop Electra. There are no desirable bumper points back by the
reactor core to use the scouts. They'll be able to come back in the
hanger bay anytime during the move, but without thrusters we'll
just keep coasting backward. Also, we have run simulations of
problems with the hanger bay doors. Technicians in spacesuits would
be able to open them manually, if that kind of problem crops up. It
will take several hours, but it can be done. The pilots waiting in
the pressurized scouts will not have a problem with life support
lasting through the operation."

Grey nodded. "Very good, Paul. Let's quietly
issue the work orders to produce the necessary modifications to the
scout ships. I want them ready if everything else fails. We will
put distance between us and that ship, one way or another.”

Grey turned to Erin. "I've read the
preliminary report on the life science group’s investigation of the
alien data brought back by Mr. Tarn's team. Do you have conclusions
for me?"

Erin winced. "I have to report no, Captain.
We cannot say conclusively."

"Your group is not able to tell me if there
are life forms aboard that ship or not?"

"There is something, sir. We don't know if
it is some kind of chemical reaction, or absorbed memory. We don't
have enough to go on. I'm sorry."

"Could we make an attempt to try to
communicate with whatever is on board that ship?"

"Sir, it would be like one man, trying to
talk to an arena full of people without a microphone. Amplitude is
not a factor in this case. Our signal would be just one more in a
noisy room. We have considered this."

Grey started to ask something more but was
interrupted by Doctor Pacell. "Captain, there is one possibility
that might assist in this matter, and would serve a dual
purpose."

"We are listening, Doctor."

"I, for one, would like a sample of the
substance that was found on the lower level. That is what this is
all about, after all. It would only need be a very small
collection. A pin drop would do. Using the medical containment
facilities in sick bay, Erin's team could conduct direct studies on
the material. There are a number of very important tests that
should be run on it."

"Are you hypothesizing that there is a
relationship between the psychological episodes we've been
experiencing on board Electra to the material on that vessel,
Doctor?"

"Captain, I'm sure you realize the incidents
we have had to deal with first began when we arrived here, and have
been increasing in number ever since. I would like to see if I can
find any correlation. That material, as I understand it, radiates
extreme neuronic energy, and that alone is suspiciously
coincidental with the area of problems we have been experiencing.
We need to understand if there is a direct relationship, what the
actual effects could be, and what the proper response should be. I
consider this very important. When we do depart this area of space,
we cannot be sure that if these problems are related to that ship
over there, they will subside."

Grey looked at Tolson and shook his head in
reluctance. "Doctor, Commander Tolson and I have already discussed
this. You are suggesting sending another EVA team over there, of
course."

"If we do not, we will leave here not
knowing, Captain? And, if the problems we're having continued to
spread and escalate, would we then be forced to come back for
answers?"

The Captain looked down and shook his head,
“Jesus…”

"I believe the incidents of nightmares,
memory loss, and the unexplained fight that took place in main
engineering all to be related, Captain. We are just lucky more
serious damage was not done to the ship."

Grey sat back in his seat and cast a
dejected stare at his chief safety officer. "Ray, the next time you
warn me not to deviate from mission planning, remind me to listen,
okay?"

Chapter 12

The 23:00 meeting in the bridge conference
room lasted slightly more than two hours. To my relief, the
decision about a second EVA was put off. The corridors that led to
my stateroom seemed lonely and too quiet, but when the doors slid
open, there was someone waiting.

Nira turned in the seat by my desk to face
me as I entered. Her shiny-black hair was tied back near the crown
of her head. Diamond earrings twisted and sparkled in the bright
room light. She had on a shear, body fitting evening gown that hung
open at the neck. Carefully tailored sleeves ended just below the
wrist, and hid the long, white bandage. The hem was ankle length,
and as she sat cross-legged I could just make out the tip of one
pointed, silver slipper. In her left hand, she held a v-shaped
glass of red wine. There was a second, full glass on the metal end
table by the couch. As I walked past her to sit, my emotions
tripped and stumbled through the full spectrum of choices,
eventually grinding down to an awkward stop in the middle of
nowhere.

It has always amazed me how making love to
someone so alters your perception of them. It affects the way the
two of you communicate. An invisible barrier has been broken.
Suddenly there are innumerable little things that can no longer be
hidden. Or, perhaps there is a loss in the ability to deceive.
There is an involuntary kind of subliminal confession beneath the
words and movements that was not there in the virgin friendship.
You have seen me. I can no longer hide who I really am. Only the
truly deceitful can. We wear the best possible disguises for
friends, enemies, and strangers alike. But the act of love making
disarms us. We have allowed either an ally or an enemy agent into
camp. We have taken a chance.

I lifted the glass that had been left for me
and studied the pale red color. "I could get called out on a
moments notice, Nira."

"It's non-alcoholic, Adrian. Don't go
getting all stiff on me. I'm not here to jump you."

I sipped and found her selection delightful.
"You should understand. Under different circumstances, that would
be a most desirable thing."

"My grapevine is failing me. Just what is
going on around here? How can we be having trouble with main
engines and thrusters at the same time?"

"Computer problems. Something's affecting
most of the systems on board ship. They haven't been able to get a
handle on it. That's what the 23:00 meeting was about."

"Since I'm not back on duty, I wasn't
allowed at the meeting."

"I, on the other hand, was forced to go.
There was standing room only."

"The bastards took the research on the alien
data away from my group and gave it to Life Sciences. Did you know
that?"

"I really can't help you there, Nira. I'm a
security officer, remember? That research crap is your line of
work, not mine."

"Wow! A stone wall, even from you! What the
hell is going on up there?"

"When do they allow you back on duty?"

"Tomorrow. Second shift, if everything under
the bandage looks okay. I'll get an eight inch band aid and be
allowed on limited duty. By the way, the doctor says I’m
promiscuous, what do you think?"

"So tomorrow, I'll be trying to pry answers
out of you instead."

"And we will stonewall each other?"

"I lost the last contest. I'm the
underdog."

"You're a difficult man to understand,
Adrian. I'm usually an expert at figuring people out, but you're
different. I had you pegged for a loner, one of those types who
goes around with the shields always up. But, when I got inside last
night, there was a different man in there. It caught me off guard.
You've screwed up my system. I'll probably need more data."

"Well, good!"

"Don't worry about it, though. Last night
was special. I don't normally take the lead. From now on it will be
up to you to make the move. And please don't assume I'm an
automatic win. Women have their moods."

"No kidding?"

She laughed and drew a circle with one
finger around the rim of her glass. "I was married for a little
more than three years to a United World diplomat. He spent most of
his time flying back and forth while I spent mine flying up and
down. We saw each other so little we kind of forgot we were
married. If there was a statute of limitations on married people
who never see each other, ours would have run out. Finally, one day
we realized we weren't really married at all, so we divorced in the
most amiable agreement ever made. It's odd, we have the same
relationship now that we always had. It's the story of my life. I
keep waiting for life to become what you see in cinemas and
literature. It's just not happening."

"They have fooled us. There is no such thing
as normal. It's mythology. In fact, one of my favorite rock stars
from long ago once said that life is what happens to you while
you’re busy making other plans."

"So why haven't you ever been married,
Adrian?"

"That seems to be the question of the
day."

"Another of which you're not going to
answer, I take it?"

"Marriage is kind of a big promise for
people who spend their days in space. We speed out from the Earth
going backwards in time, and then try to catch up with it on the
way back in."

"I may start calling you Stonewall."

She finished her wine, plunked the empty
glass down by the computer, and slinked over to the door. "I'll
find you out, Adrian. Before I'm done, I will." She winked and
disappeared though the automatic doors, leaving me to wonder.

Never tell them the truth. Why spend all
that time fabricating the false male image of invincibility, only
to turn around and admit you are an insecure, frightened child when
it comes to love? I have experienced my share of pain and fear. I
have spun down out of control in a bent and twisted aircraft, not
knowing if a recovery would ever come, wondering if I would feel
that short burst of impact with the ground before I felt the
pressure of the eight positive Gs it would take to pull out. I have
been thrown from horses who have tried to stomp me after they did,
and trained in the marshal arts by masters who I could not be sure
wouldn't kill me by accident. In all of these things, there has
been a reward within the fear, and euphoria from the survival. But
in games of the heart, there is a coldness waiting that sometimes
can leave you with nothing. When you crash and burn, you live with
the death, forever. Of all the pain I have ever endured, there is
nothing to compare to that of the wasted heart.

So, you test the water over and over before
you take the leap. I had been willing to take it only once. That
was forever ago. She had all the right flavors, knew all the right
buttons to push. Had me walking in her twisted line and liking it.
I couldn't wait to sign on for the full cruise. Her name was
Crystal. She had curly, dark brown, flavorful hair that she kept at
shoulder length. Naturally tan, perfectly toned skin, five foot
five, deep, dark maroon eyes. And, she had a way of making you feel
like an emperor when she was with you, especially in public. Had an
ooo-eee little voice that somehow put all the erogenous regions on
full alert.

She and her folks held a pending lease on
the Hawkins Space Station. It was a worthless piece of paper,
unless the Nobel scientist who operated a research lab in that
space suddenly up and died or became incapacitated. He was only
fifty-three years old, and the prospect that he would continue his
research well past the age of one hundred seemed inevitable. Then
one day the good doctor got caught doing illegal genetic research
on perfectly healthy humans without their knowledge. The doctor
protested the charges in the worst possible way. He claimed he
would prolong life indefinitely if allowed to continue. But, when
it was discovered his research had been partially funded by
organizations of black marketiers, the boom fell quickly.